


Wait

by eldee



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, D/s, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Sex Toys, community:merlin_holidays, established D/s, no painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 03:17:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldee/pseuds/eldee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a couple of weeks since Merlin and Arthur have had the chance to get together for a night of play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marguerite_26](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=marguerite_26).



> Thanks to my cheerleader fuzzytomato02 and my Brit-picker/beta leashy_bebes for all the help with this.
> 
> Written for marguerite_26. Maggie, this is basically a long PWP but I truly hope you enjoy. Happy Holidays! <3 (Originally posted anon [here](http://merlin-holidays.livejournal.com/35703.html).)

Despite their arrangement that's been going on for a few months, Merlin doesn't actually feel comfortable enough to just walk into Arthur's home, even though he’s expected. There's a part of him that'd like to take a small thrill in pushing some sort of limits, since he knows that sort of blatant disrespect would _not_ be tolerated later in the evening. Technically, that kind of playtime doesn't start until they're in the bedroom, until they're in a scene.

Until that happens, Merlin and Arthur are just friends, of a sort, but all things considered, it’s still a rather new friendship. Certainly not enough to just waltz into each other’s home.

So Merlin knocks.

A few moments later, Arthur opens the door. He has a thin layer of patience on his face, as though he's resisting a frown. "Merlin, I wasn't expecting--"

"Of course you were," Merlin says. He can’t help but beam a smile at Arthur, and then brushes past him. "We talked about it earlier this week. I texted you this morning, to confirm. Remember? You said we were on."

"But then I texted back--"

"Oh, that," Merlin says dismissively, waving a hand absently through the air. "Forgot my mobile at home today--"

"Shocking," Arthur mutters dryly.

Merlin ignores him, both his tone and the frown he gives as Merlin begins to toe off his shoes. "It happens," Merlin says easily. "Hey, isn't that show you like on telly about to begin? Did you want to watch that first?" He heads off in the direction of the living room.

"Merlin, wait," Arthur begins.

"Or not, we can just -- oh," Merlin says, surprised. He's turned into the living room and sees there are two men in suits, one on the sofa and the other on the sitting chair. The man with longer hair is holding one of the nice china teacups. The other, large and clearly very muscular, is sitting relaxed with his leg crossed over his knee. They look up at Merlin, seemingly as surprised to see him as he is them.

"You've company," Merlin says as Arthur comes to stand beside him. Merlin looks at him and plasters on a fake smile. "You've company, and you didn't say so."

Arthur snorts slightly, and Merlin isn't sure if it's amused or annoyed. It throws him off a bit that he can't read that. Arthur says, "I tried."

Merlin is very, very glad he didn't start discussing in any detail just what his and Arthur's plans are -- were -- for the evening. It wouldn't do to out his Dom in front of --

"Who're they?" Merlin asks.

It wouldn't do at all.

" _They_ ," the one with shaggy hair stands up, pointing to himself, "are Gwaine." He points to the muscular man. "And Percy." He flashes a smile at Merlin, smooth and charming.

"My co-workers," Arthur says, a bit gruffly. He takes a step closer to Merlin, a little possessive, as he glares at Gwaine. But then Arthur's face is relaxed and his smile is as smooth as Gwaine’s. "We were just going over some details for a presentation for tomorrow. Hence why I tried to cancel our plans."

Merlin’s disappointed -- he’s been looking forward to seeing Arthur, to this evening -- but he tries to smile over it. "Right," he says. "Well, then. I suppose I should be leaving."

The corner of Arthur's mouth twitches ever so slightly, and Merlin can't help but feel a spark of warmth that maybe Arthur's just as disappointed.

"Now, Arthur," Gwaine says, eyes amused as he looks between Arthur and Merlin. "It wouldn't be very nice of us to keep you from -- _plans_ ," he says slyly as he looks Merlin up and down. Merlin tries to hide his grin when he sees Arthur frown at Gwaine.

Percy speaks up. "We do have work to do," he shrugs lightly, "but it would only be a few more minutes. Wouldn't you agree, Gwaine?"

"I could wait," Merlin says hopefully. He pats the messenger bag settled on his hip. "I've a bit of revision I could take care of."

"Revision?" Gwaine asks interestedly. "For what --" he trails off, as if searching for a name.

"Merlin," Merlin supplies. "And, I'm in uni." He shrugs. "There's always revision."

"Uni," Gwaine says thoughtfully as he looks at Arthur, but Merlin isn't sure why. Sure, he's still in school, and he's a couple years younger than Arthur, who already works for his father's firm, but it's not _that_ big a deal.

"Right," Arthur says. He puts his hand on the small of Merlin's back ever so lightly. "I'm going to show Merlin to my office, he can use the desk there. I'll be back in a moment."

Merlin gives a little wave and follows Arthur out of the room. He can hear the rumble of a deep voice and a surprised laugh trail after him and Arthur, but he can't make out what it is or what it means.

Arthur doesn't say anything, doesn't look back behind him as he goes up the stairs. Merlin follows closely, chattering away. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to cause any inconvenience," he says lightly. "Honest mistake, that, forgetting my mobile. If you ever don't hear back from me, try sending me an email. I check it at school _all_ the time. And it's been a couple weeks, and I was so looking forward to tonight." He really was, the need and itch has been building up for days. "I hope you're still in the mood--"

Merlin’s words come to an abrupt halt as he walks into Arthur's chest. He hadn't been paying much attention and apparently Arthur's paused at the top of the landing.

Arthur's hand curls around Merlin's elbow, squeezing tight, and Merlin's breath hitches. He looks into Arthur's eyes, though, because they haven't really begun playing and he hasn't been told he can’t. Not yet, at least.

But he recognises the glint in Arthur's eyes, calculating yet playful.

Merlin swallows. "So, r-r-ight," he says, voice cracking a bit. He coughs and tries again. He nods down the corridor. "Office that way, then?"

"You're not going to the office," Arthur says, quiet and controlled.

"I’m not?" Merlin blinks, surprised.

"No. You're going to go to my bedroom." Merlin knows exactly where that is. Arthur's lip curls up, just a little, before continuing on, "And you're going to wait for me."

Merlin's nodding before an answer even spills out of his mouth. "All right," Merlin says eagerly. "I can do that."

"Yes, you can," Arthur confirms. "And you'll strip off, and kneel on the floor. You'll put your hands behind your head, and you'll wait."

Merlin can't help it; he tenses up at that demand. It's just -- there are other people here, people in the house. What if they wander into Arthur's room? What if they see Merlin naked? What if they _know_ that--

"You'll be okay." Arthur's voice is calm. He sounds completely confident in Merlin's ability to do this for him, and it's that that starts to settle Merlin's nerves. But it's his next words that have Merlin's stomach flip-flopping. "You'll be safe. No one will find you. I'll make sure you're safe." He brushes his knuckles ever so lightly against Merlin's cheek. "Can you do this for me?"

Merlin takes in a shuddery breath, but he nods. "Yes. Yes, I can."

Arthur rewards Merlin with a smile. "Good. I'll come back to you soon."

Merlin wants to ask when, when will Arthur come back to him, how long will he have to wait? But he doesn't say anything as Arthur steps around him and heads down the stairs.

Merlin closes his eyes for a brief moment, but then goes towards Arthur's room.

**

Merlin isn't sure how long he waits.

He does as Arthur asks -- no, _tells_ \-- him to do, and goes into Arthur's room. It's a large suite, with a bathroom off to the side and a walk-in cupboard and a spacious bed. It's neat and tidy, as always.

He pulls off his layers of clothes methodically, one piece after the other, folding them neatly the way Arthur likes and setting them in a clean pile next to the little sofa that's in one corner of the room. He hesitates, ever so briefly, when he's down to nothing but his pants; the door is closed (not locked, as his first instinct thrilled through him, because Arthur has to get back in and he wouldn't like to find he can't) but Merlin can hear muffled murmurs drifting from downstairs. There are still people in the house. Others that this is not for, that _he's_ not for.

But as he hears Arthur's laugh ringing lightly into the room, Merlin takes a deep breath and shucks off the last piece of clothing and folds it, depositing it on the top of the pile.

He kneels in the middle of the room, facing the dresser and eyes the bottom left corner drawer. Merlin knows what's in there. As he waits, instead of counting the minutes along with the little alarm clock next to the bed, he closes his eyes and imagines what might happen when Arthur comes back up stairs. He’s been waiting for this, thinking about it, about Arthur. He knows he shouldn't let himself get too worked up, not quite yet, but it's the easiest, most entertaining way to pass the time, eyes closed and ideas and thoughts and _anticipation_ running through his mind.

When he hears the front door slam closed (finally, god _finally_ ), he can perfectly picture Arthur turning the deadbolt firmly, sliding the chain lock into place as an extra precaution, and even setting the little alarm by the door. All in order to give them privacy, tucked away from the rest of the world as they play.

Merlin can't help but twitch as he hears the bedroom door open, a little bit of cool air from the hall curling in and brushing against his naked skin. He's thankful Arthur kept the room toasty warm today, and he hasn't been too uncomfortable waiting (other than the slightest of burns in the muscles of his arms as he holds them up, hands placed on the back of his head). But he still shivers as the door closes and he hears Arthur's careful, even footsteps.

Merlin keeps his eyes down, seeing Arthur's socked feet as he comes to stand in front of Merlin. Light fingertips touch the top Merlin's head, sliding into his hair and resting there. Merlin can feel his body relax into it, shoulders dropping a little as tension and anticipation eases, though his hands stay up.

Arthur's voice cuts through the silence of the room, quiet but steady. "You can lower them now."

At the command, Merlin's arms automatically drop down limply, knuckles brushing against the sides of his thighs as his skin prickles with increased circulation. It doesn't hurt, though, not really. It’s just a slight buzz. It’s nice.

"Thank you," Merlin says, his voice just barely above a whisper. He speaks because Arthur hasn't told him yet that he can't, just the same as he glances up through his eyelashes to look. There aren't set rules here, not until Arthur voices them. Sometimes he likes different things; sometimes, he wants to grant or deny Merlin certain things.

Arthur isn't smiling, though, and Merlin lets his gaze drop back down immediately. "No," Arthur says. "Look at me."

And with that, Merlin turns his whole face up, and meets Arthur's eyes. His face is blank, and Merlin hates when he can't read what’s there (but loves when he finally can, when Arthur’s so worked up he just lets go). Merlin waits patiently until Arthur speaks.

"I can't say I'm terribly pleased at the moment, to be caught off guard like that," Arthur says, and it's all that Merlin can do to not look away. An uneasy feeling starts to uncoil in the pit of his stomach; he hates disappointing Arthur. Merlin opens his mouth -- he wants to explain more, try to make Arthur see, to _apologise_ \-- but with the slight twitch of Arthur's eyebrow, Merlin snaps it shut. Arthur has worked long and hard on teaching Merlin discipline, several scenes devoted just to that, in the simplest yet most frustrating ways. And Merlin tries, he truly does, though it isn’t always the easiest for him.

Merlin knows it's paid off, because with the slight tug at the corner of Arthur's mouth it's as though Merlin can feel the tension ease out of Arthur's own body. Arthur's face quickly goes neutral again, but it seems softer than minutes before.

"A misunderstanding," Arthur says, and his hand moves over the side of Merlin's head. He does it again, almost petting Merlin. "And one that can easily be made up for. Would you like to do that for me, Merlin?" Arthur asks, even though Merlin's nodding before the question is even finished.

Arthur chuckles a little. His hand drops away from Merlin's head, and he steps to the side. Merlin's head turns, tracking him and keeping eye contact, because that's what Arthur last said to do and he hasn't said stop. But he doesn't move, not yet, not until the instruction. Arthur walks backwards, and Merlin can see in his periphery that Arthur is removing his belt, tossing it off to the side. But then he's at the sofa and he sits down without taking off any other clothing.

"Arms behind your back," Arthur tells him. It's a familiar command, and Merlin's arms immediately go behind his back, using his hands to grab at opposite elbows to lock his arms into place. "Come here. On your knees."

Merlin swallows, but turns his body to face Arthur and shuffles forwards, walking on his knees. But he's looking at Arthur and -- Merlin isn't embarrassed by this. Arthur's face has melted into something approving, turned-on even, and it takes away any embarrassment he could’ve felt. Right now, Merlin only feels wanted.

A low, pleased hum comes from Arthur. "So pretty," he murmurs, just loudly enough for Merlin to hear. "So lovely when you're on your knees for me."

By the time Merlin's knelt before Arthur, in between his legs, Merlin's face is flushed red and his breath is quickened. Arthur reaches out again, hand cupping Merlin's cheek. His thumb rubs lightly over Merlin's lips. "Your mouth," Arthur says, almost transfixed. He pushes his thumb past Merlin's lips. He can't help but suck lightly, and Arthur's daze breaks into a coy smirk. "You're gonna use that mouth to make it up to me, aren't you?" he asks, his legs spreading even wider to accommodate Merlin.

Merlin knows it’s a rhetorical question, but he nods eagerly anyway.

"Come on, Merlin." Arthur's voice is quiet, but gives no quarter. Neither does the hand on the back of Merlin's head, pressing down. But it's not like Merlin wants to resist. He doesn't, not at all.

Merlin's eyes drop from Arthur's, and he isn't called out on it. He watches Arthur use his free hand to thumb open the button on his trousers, pull down the zip. He lifts his hips just the tiniest to push away some of the material -- but he doesn't take his trousers off. He doesn't even push his black briefs down, or pull his cock out. He just presses Merlin's head down until Merlin's face is up against Arthur's covered crotch.

Merlin doesn't mind. He does as he always does, and nuzzles into the heat radiating there, noses along the definitive line of Arthur's cock. Not fully hard, but quickly getting there.

Merlin's arms are still behind his back, ragged fingernails digging into the soft skin around his elbows. He has to spread his knees a little, keep better balance. Arthur lets go of Merlin's hair, and Merlin lets his head fall to the side a little, resting against Arthur's inner thigh, but still with his face pressed against the side of Arthur's cock.

Arthur loves it this way. Loves being fully dressed as Merlin kneels naked in front of him. And Merlin loves it too, nuzzling and kissing at the cloth casing Arthur's cock, feeling the material grow more taut as Arthur's erection gets harder.

But there's something that _dings_ in Merlin's mind -- this is Arthur's easy, simple beginning, something familiar and comforting they both like, to ease into something else, maybe something new or harder or more playful or _something_. Merlin's stomach twists with curiosity, and he finds himself a bit distracted, thinking ahead to what, just _what_ does Arthur have planned --

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur practically growls, hand back into Merlin's hair. Oh god. Merlin's been drifting, not paying enough attention. Even as Arthur's tugging Merlin's head up, so that he's not leaning against Arthur's leg anymore, Merlin focuses and presses his face back against Arthur's cock. He licks a stripe up the bulge, and quickly sucks through the material where he can feel the head of it.

There's a low moan from Arthur, and it sounds pleased, and he appears to forgive Merlin’s moment of inattention, but he doesn't let go of Merlin's hair. He tugs harder, even, pressing Merlin's face down as his hips buck up.

Merlin groans at that.

"Oh, yeah, you like that," Arthur says, voice low and gravelly. He does it again, drops his hips then presses them back up, rubbing over Merlin's face.

Merlin doesn't say anything, just whimpers a little as he tries to hold still. Arthur hasn't asked him to yet, but Merlin knows, knows how much Arthur loves rubbing his clothed cock over Merlin's face, practically getting himself off on him. Merlin loves it too, loves feeling the bulge move over him, up beside one side of his nose and over his closed eye and his eyebrow, back down again to his chin and up the other side of his face, over and over, fast. God, Merlin loves it, loves the way Arthur's hands dig into his hair and hold him steady, and just lets go.

"So pretty like that," Arthur says. He's dropped his hips, stills them, but presses Merlin's face down again, practically cradling Merlin's head in his lap. Merlin's breathing heavily, and his face is tingling from where the material's been rubbed all over it, but he still nuzzles in as close as he can. Arthur's hard now, so hard and straining against his briefs, and god Merlin wants, how he wants.

"I'm going to fuck your mouth," Arthur announces quite decisively, and Merlin can't help but groan at that. His head's tugged up, just a little bit, and he forces his eyes open to see Arthur's free hand dive beneath the band of his briefs, pushing them down enough to pull out his cock.

Arthur drags his cock over Merlin's cheekbone and leaves behind a thin, wet line of pre-come. Merlin waits with his mouth closed, waits as Arthur traces his lips with his cock. "Open," Arthur says, and Merlin immediately does, mouth wide and lips covering teeth. From there, there’s no preamble, no waiting as Arthur feeds his cock into his mouth and pushes in slowly. He's just careful enough to let Merlin's mouth adjust, slowly pulls in and out a couple times to let Merlin's spit slick it up. But then that's all the waiting there is, and Arthur's hands are back in Merlin's hair, holding him steady while Arthur fucks up into his warm, wet mouth.

Despite being held, Merlin can't help but try to strain forward, try for more and more. His hair gets pulled in Arthur's grip, and Merlin groans deeply as sparks shoot across his skull. Arthur echoes it, but sounding breathless, and his hips pump more erratically. Merlin moans as there's pressure against his own cock; not from his hands, those are still behind his back as he's been told, but he realises he's inched forward on his knees. His own erection is pressed up against the bottom of the sofa, his hips moving as he humps it. His shoulders are hunched over at an awkward angle but Arthur doesn't seem to notice as Merlin's mouth is right where he wants it, be damned with the rest of his body in that moment.

Arthur's own head is thrown back against the sofa, eyes closed now. He makes a wretched sound, needy and desperate as he pulls Merlin off his cock, as if it's almost painful for him -- Merlin makes a similar noise in return, tries to strain forward to get Arthur's cock in his mouth again, to get pressure against his own body -- but Arthur doesn't let him. Instead, he moans as he takes his cock in one hand and starts pumping.

"God, Merlin, your mouth," he breathes out, sounding rough and close, so close, Merlin recognises. "Gonna come--" he grunts a little as he twists his wrist, swipes his thumb over the head of his cock "-- all over your face." Merlin just tilts his head, trying to get as close as possible, and shuts his eyes. In no time at all, he hears a familiar groan and feels warm, wet shoots of come splatter across his heated face, some missing and landing on his shoulder and neck, making a mess.

"Oh, fuck," Arthur says. Merlin opens his eyes and sees Arthur slumped down. His face is flushed red, splotchy patches down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his work shirt. His cock is going soft, lying on his flat stomach where his shirt has ridden up. Merlin desperately wants to kiss along the small line of skin showing along the bottom of his briefs that isn't covered up by his trousers.

In fact, he tries to do just that. Tries to lean forward, gets ready to kiss, but he moans a little as his hard cock presses against the sofa again.

That catches Arthur's attention. He sits right up, takes Merlin's face in his hands, palms pressing against drying come, smearing it even more against his skin.

"No, Merlin."

No. No, what? What did he do wrong, what--

"You'll get to come," Arthur says. It's soft, and one hand is running through Merlin's hair again. Merlin leans into the touch, suddenly comforted and willing and god yes, he doesn't have to worry about himself because Arthur is going to take care of him--

"Later."

Merlin blinks and looks up at Arthur, confused, and Arthur just smirks down at him and pushes him away from the sofa a little. Merlin shuffles back, not exactly willingly but he’s not trying to not disappoint Arthur. He’s hard, so hard, his erection standing out from his body.

Arthur looks down at it, appreciatively, and that sends a surge of warmth through Merlin's stomach, but then Arthur is shaking his head. Why, why is he shaking his head like that?

"I wasn't kidding when I said this wasn't the best night," Arthur says softly. He glances over Merlin's shoulder -- probably at the little clock on the bedtable -- and then down at Merlin again. His thumb rubs over Merlin's lip and Merlin shudders. "There's a client coming over to drop off paperwork," Arthur says. "And I cannot miss that. But it won't be long," Arthur says reassuringly. "And I want the time to take care of--" he glances down at Merlin's erection again and smiles, "--you." He looks at Merlin seriously again. "Can you do that, Merlin? Can you wait for me?"

Merlin take in a deep breath; it feels like Arthur's request has made him even harder, wanting to get off even more after the look in his eyes. He _can_ wait, and he will. For Arthur. For Arthur to take care of him, as he says.

He looks up at Arthur and nods.

The smile on Arthur's face is worth it.

"Come on, then, up with you," Arthur says. He stands and reaches down to grab one of Merlin's elbows; Merlin keeps his arms and hands firmly behind him, because Arthur hasn't said not to yet, but Arthur is helping him as he clumsily stands up that way. Arthur tucks himself back into his trousers, leaving Merlin for just the briefest of moments while he gets Merlin's boxers from the top of the neatly folded pile of clothes. Merlin wants to say -- no, no, I don't need to get dressed -- but that's all Arthur gets so Merlin tries to be patient.

Arthur bends down, taps one foot at a time so that Merlin will lift it and get his leg into the boxer-holes, and Arthur pulls them up. He very carefully stays away from touching Merlin's cock, but once the boxers are settled into place, Merlin's hard-on is tenting them out in front of him.

Merlin feels himself blush even more at that, for some reason he can't figure out, and Arthur's appreciative hum just makes him feel even more heated.

"To the bed," Arthur says. "You can walk there. But kneel on the middle of it, like you were on the floor waiting for me. You can keep your hands as they are now." Merlin only nods, and turns to do just that. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Arthur walk the other way, but it's only toward the bathroom. He’s not leaving Merlin quite yet.

Merlin does as he was told, and waits for Arthur in the middle of the bed.

A couple minutes later, Arthur leaves the bathroom. His hair looks combed and all his clothes as set right, and if it weren't for pink to his cheeks, he wouldn't even look like he had just been fucking Merlin's mouth and coming all over his face.

In his hand, Arthur is carrying a fluffy white robe. He stands next to the bed and uses a corner of it to wipe the come off of Merlin’s face and shoulders, then he drapes it over Merlin's shoulders -- not putting it on him properly, but pulling it around him at least, covering him though it hangs open in the front.

"There," Arthur says quietly. "Will you be warm enough?"

Merlin doesn't say anything but nods. He was starting to get a little chilly, the layer of sweat on his body drying, but this will be -- perfect. He doesn't actually trust himself to say anything right then; his heart feels like it's going to burst that Arthur, who is the one in control and that Merlin would let take whatever he wants, is actually giving him this.

"Good," Arthur says. He leans in, close to Merlin's ear but not touching. "You'll wait here for me, and when I get back I'm going to tie you to that bed and play and play until you want to come so badly you’ll beg me for it."

Merlin's breath catches in his throat, and within a second, Arthur is pulled away and gone.

And all Merlin can do is wait.

**

Merlin isn't sure how long he waits.

It isn’t easy. He's in the middle of the bed, half naked. He’s comfortable enough, even if he is up on his knees, and he's not cold. But he can't say he's content and relaxed -- his hard on is aching and he's desperate to be touched.

He thought it would go down, not be quite as urgent, with time away from Arthur, but it turns out that waiting and thinking and _knowing_ Arthur is downstairs -- and probably making plans for him -- doesn't help.

Neither does the fact that Arthur comes upstairs to check on him twice. Arthur just steps into the room, and Merlin keeps his stare focused forward. But Arthur stands beside the bed, placing a hand lightly on Merlin's shoulder, and he can't help but look at him.

"All right, then?" Arthur asks, his voice even.

Merlin looks him in the eyes and nods.

Without being told, he faces forward again. But Merlin smiles, just a small tug his lips, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Arthur nod. Arthur knows Merlin's okay. And as he walks out, there's a short hum of approval, and Merlin knows Arthur is pleased.

It helps get through all this waiting.

Merlin finds it in himself to get relaxed while keeping his pose, but then he hears the doorbell downstairs, and the door opening with Arthur's greeting. It just makes his back go straighter and his arms more tense; not from being afraid or worried or anything, but from having something tangible to cling onto, knowing that Arthur will soon be done with business and will make his way back to the bedroom to stay.

He can't help but think about that first time he rang the doorbell, a little bit nervous but a whole lot excited. He hadn't known Arthur super well -- just met a few times through mutual friends, attended some of the same house parties. Arthur took an instant liking to teasing Merlin, and Merlin gave cheek back. And then one weekend, they'd run into each other at a club -- one of _those_ kinds of clubs, but far away from where either of them lived. Merlin hadn't even been expecting any play that night, but he wanted to meet new people, maybe find someone he could get to know and make some arrangements with -- and then there he was. Arthur Pendragon.

When their eyes met, Merlin's had gone wide with shock, that this secret was out, and he'd turned on his heel and quickly made his way through the crowd and out of the club. Out and away and his heart had been pounding with fear and worry and -- and Arthur had followed, caught up with him. Surprised the hell out of Merlin when he invited Merlin to join him for a cup of coffee.

They'd found a little cafe, and after the first few minutes the awkwardness had faded away and they talked and talked and talked and, as it turned out, they were exactly what they were each looking for. Someone to play with when they had the time, but no real strings attached.

And it works. They work. They've made it work to exactly what they need, better than Merlin could’ve ever imagined. And if stray thoughts enter Merlin’s mind that maybe -- well, no. Not yet. Maybe not ever. This is what they have arranged, and Merlin _does_ like it. It’s good. More than good.

Even when Merlin barges into Arthur's home unexpectedly.

Which is exactly why he finds himself waiting, a special and not entirely unpleasant little punishment.

And if his heart jumps a little bit when Arthur comes back into the room, a smug look on his face, it's entirely because Merlin will (hopefully) have his cock touched soon. Really, that's what it is, he tells his racing heart.

Merlin can't keep his eyes off Arthur, not any more. He watches, quiet and patient, while Arthur slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, folding it neatly and setting it on the sofa. He pulls off the undershirt and does the same. He toes off his shoes, and removes his socks, but then he's walking over to the dresser, leaving his trousers on.

Merlin can't help but take in a sharp breath as he sees Arthur go into the bottom drawer and pull out their box of toys.

Arthur walks slowly to the bed, drops the box down onto the covers. He reaches over and takes the robe off Merlin's shoulders. This he throws behind him haphazardly in the direction of the sofa. Apparently he's no longer willing to leave Merlin's side, and Merlin can't help but bite his lip at that, trying to resist an inappropriately timed smile.

Arthur just raises one eyebrow, but then nods down. "Take them off."

Merlin lets go of his elbows behind him, can't help but roll his shoulders once and shake out his arms, but within a second his hands are pushing down his boxers and he's shifting around to slide them off. He gets back onto steady knees when he’s done.

"Fold them."

Merlin does so, smoothing them out and folding them over a couple of times into a neat square, and places them in Arthur's outreached hand.

Arthur tosses them behind him in the same fashion he did the robe. Merlin only barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

Arthur's not paying attention to that, though; he's rooting around in the box and that catches Merlin's attention very quickly. He pulls out a cockring and Merlin's jaw drops.

No _fucking_ way.

Arthur smirks. "You look so pretty like that." Merlin can't help but snap his jaw shut and he tries very hard not to scowl. But then Arthur is reaching down, taking Merlin's cock in hand, ignoring Merlin’s gasp, and carefully snapping the cockring on.

Merlin whimpers. He cannot help it. Arthur's hand _finally_ on his cock -- just to keep him from coming a little longer. Making him wait more.

Arthur is clearly a bastard. And, perhaps, a bit of a genius too. At least when it comes to driving Merlin absolutely _crazy_.

Merlin swallows hard, tries to keep back a frustrated sigh as Arthur presses his lips to Merlin's temple. Not quite a kiss, just close and tender and that's a bit confusing given how much Merlin just wants Arthur to take him and make him come, how much he just … wants.

"Up the bed," Arthur tells Merlin. "On your back."

Merlin complies quickly, shuffling a bit and falling onto his back. He automatically puts his arms up when he sees Arthur pull their handcuffs out of the box.

"Very good," Arthur murmurs softly, sounding pleased, when he sees that Merlin's done that. Merlin tries to take a deep breath, calm himself, but he's feels ridiculously happy with himself at Arthur's tone. "You do enjoy it like this," Arthur says as he carefully puts a cuff around Merlin's wrist.

"Yes," Merlin agrees quietly. He loves the soft lined leather of the cuffs, the way they fit snug around his wrists. He likes the chain that goes around a slat in the headboard, that it gives enough slack that Arthur can flip him over and back any time he wants, but that Merlin still can't move his arms down to reach or touch Arthur or himself.

"Then you're lucky that I do too," Arthur says.

"Yes," Merlin agrees again, breathing evenly out his nose.

Arthur snorts lightly, but still seems happy. His fingers run feather-light up and down the inside of one of Merlin's arms. Merlin shivers against it -- not only the delicate, teasing touch but also from knowing that Arthur can be quite patient when he wants and could do this _forever_ , teasing Merlin even more to the brink.

When Merlin glances at Arthur's face, he sees a playful smirk there, and he shudders again. That's probably exactly what he's thinking of doing. It's been weeks since they've been able to do this, and Arthur's made him wait this evening, and now he's going to draw it out even more.

Oh, fuck. God, how Merlin wants that.

"Eyes to the ceiling," Arthur says. It's hard to drag his gaze away from Arthur, but he does. Merlin looks up, stares at the white paint above them. He can hear Arthur's next instruction. "Keep like that. Or close your eyes if you need. But no looking back down. Understood?"

"Yes," Merlin says, nodding.

"Good."

Merlin feels Arthur’s fingers sweep up and down Merlin's arm again, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Arthur's wrist, and how his forearm muscles ripple as he touches Merlin’s arms, even movements up and down. But he doesn't look directly, tries hard to keep his eyes open and staring where Arthur told him to.

Arthur pulls away and Merlin tries not to whimper at the loss of contact, but he can hear the click of a belt being undone, the rustle of the trousers as they fall to the floor. He can only imagine if Arthur's got rid of his briefs too, and Merlin really hopes he has; he'll have to wait to see if he's right, though, until Arthur lets him.

There's a little dip to the bed, Arthur's knee pressed up against Merlin's side, his leg sweeping over Merlin's body so he's straddling him. Merlin bites his lip when he's pretty certain he feels the brush of Arthur's cock against his stomach. It's when Arthur leans down that he can _feel_ it, and Merlin barely holds back a moan.

"Oh, you're trying to be quiet for me," Arthur says, close to Merlin's ear. His hair tickles the bottom of Merlin's chin, and he can smell a tiny whiff of Arthur’s expensive shampoo, sharp and clean. Merlin swallows hard, and Arthur licks across his Adam's Apple; it bobs again as Merlin tries to focus on being quiet.

He answers, little more than a whisper, "Yes."

"You're being so _good_ for me," Arthur says. He mouths along Merlin's collarbone, little licks and nips. "And I haven't even had to ask. Are you trying to be a good boy?"

"Trying. Trying really hard. For you."

"You're doing so well," Arthur reassures. He adds, "Thank you for waiting," and Merlin feels like he’s going to burst from pride.

Arthur leans up and over a little bit, and he sucks on the soft flesh on Merlin's underarm, just a few inches above his armpit. But then there's a little sharp pain when Arthur's teeth bite and Merlin's feet kick out with the jolt. His dick is pulsing, so very hard, the leather strap around it keeping the release away. Merlin can’t help but whimper.

Arthur chuckles. "Shhh, now." He licks the spot soothingly, and one hand is stroking gently down Merlin's side. "Be still. Be quiet. You can do this."

Merlin nods, chin bumping against the top of Arthur's head as he moves down. Yes, Merlin can do this. He closes his eyes, finding it easier to centre himself when he does.

But, Jesus, it really isn't that easy with Arthur taking his sweet time. He's hunched over Merlin, fingertips massaging into his skin in slow circles down his sides. His mouth is going tantalisingly slow, as if he's forgotten the map of Merlin's body, the taste and feel of it. Merlin doesn't know how long it takes, the slow meandering path down his chest and then his stomach, but Merlin quickly becomes a quivering mess.

And, naturally, the bastard completely pulls away from Merlin once he's close, oh so very fucking close, to Merlin's cock. He doesn't touch it, doesn't pay it any mind or attention. When Merlin's hips twitch up, Arthur's strong hands clamp around them and push down, holding him in place.

Merlin can't even hold back the whine that escapes from his lips. His eyes are still closed, and he opens them, half-lidded and looking down his body.

Arthur says sternly, "Merlin."

Merlin closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath, and when he opens them for a second time, he's looking at the ceiling.

"Better," Arthur says. His hands release their grip, and start moving again, gentle caresses down his outer thighs to his knees and back up over the sensitive skin on his inner thighs. And still not high enough, just back down to repeat the smooth movements in reverse. Eventually, Arthur grabs Merlin's ankles, pushing his legs up so they bend at the knees, feet flat on the bedcovers.

"Wider," Arthur says. "Spread wider."

If possible, Merlin's cheeks have grown even warmer, but he does as he’s told and moves his feet and legs so that they're spread out as wide as he can get them. He’s on display, knows without seeing that Arthur's just _looking_ , eyes all over Merlin's body when his hands aren't.

"Gorgeous," Arthur says, voice low and wanting. "So beautiful, the way you let me see you."

Merlin closes his eyes and soaks it in, and the warmth that sparks in his stomach has nothing to do with how he's spread out on the bed. He feels exactly in tune with what Arthur's saying, because he’s saying it. It makes everything else, all of it, worth it to hear that praise, and know that Arthur really means it.

There's a sudden movement, and Merlin can feel Arthur hovering over his body again, one hand pressing into the mattress at his side. His cock brushes against Merlin's inner thigh and he cannot, just can't, stop his gasp.

Arthur doesn't acknowledge it, either way. He just pulls back, and then is urging Merlin's hips up; he's grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed, and is trying to wedge it underneath him. Merlin does his best without the proper use of his arms to help out, shifting and moving his body until it’s in place.

"There," Arthur says, sounding content with it. And then Merlin hears him rustling through the little box again, and there's the familiar snap of the lube opening, and Merlin nearly sighs with relief when he feels the cool, wet tips of Arthur's fingertips at his hole.

Arthur's fingers work him open; first one, slow and almost tentative, then a second to stretch Merlin out. With his apparent never-ending supply of patience that night, Arthur takes his time, strong fingers moving firm and smooth until they’re pumping in a steady pace.

It's all Merlin can do to keep still, keep quiet. By the time Arthur’s pressing against that spot that sends jolts along Merlin's spine, Merlin's just about ready to give in. To break the dam and let out a flood of _please, please, Arthur, just please_.

But he holds on to what Arthur said earlier -- _gonna make you beg_ \-- and Merlin clamps down his litany of words and pleas. It's not quite time yet; too soon, and Arthur will only drag it out more. But if Merlin's good, like Arthur wants him to be, Arthur'll be fair. He'll take his time, but he'll be fair.

Still, Merlin can't stop the little whimper when Arthur pulls his fingers out of Merlin's arse.

"Shhh," Arthur says, but in an almost kind way. He kisses the inside of Merlin's knee, evening stubble grazing against sensitive skin. It makes Merlin's leg involuntarily twitch, but Arthur just presses another kiss and Merlin can feel the small smile there, like an imprint of a promise.

In just short moments, there's something back, pressing against Merlin. It's slick and blunt, but Merlin knows it's not Arthur's cock; it's smooth and a little cool.

"Love using this on you," Arthur tells him, and it finally sounds like his voice is starting to crack, just a little. That his playing is finally starting to get to him too. Merlin sighs; he loves when Arthur's own composure starts to break down. He wishes he could watch, see it slip little by little. But he keeps his eyes closed and focuses on breathing as Arthur pushes his favourite silver buttplug into Merlin.

Merlin lets out a shaky breath when he feels it slide into perfect place and is seated within him. Only, Arthur doesn't stop there. He keeps moving it around in circles. He presses it in a bit further, then pulls it out, pressing it back in and wiggling it about. Merlin's breath starts to hitch and his hips squirm just the tiniest of bits -- this only makes Arthur play with it more.

Merlin moans, quiet but still audible in the otherwise silent room. " _Arthur_."

"Hmm, yes, Merlin?" Arthur asks, sounding a little bit too smug. It only makes Merlin shake his head; no, he can't break. Not quite yet.

Arthur adjusts the plug for another couple seconds, but then gives an approving hum before the bed shifts. Merlin can feel it as Arthur moves to kneel between Merlin's legs, to bend over his body and place a hand on either side of Merlin's drawn-up arms.

"Did you have something to say, Merlin?" Arthur asks, voice floating in the air right above Merlin's face.

Merlin just shakes his head, eyes clenched shut.

"Look at me," Arthur demands softly. "Come on, you can open up now."

Merlin works his eyes open. He blinks once, twice, trying to clear his vision, and then suddenly right above him he sees Arthur. Blond fringe hanging down, nearly brushing Merlin's forehead, cheeks red, eyes wide and intense.

The corners of them crinkles just a little when Arthur gives a small, coy smile. He presses his face down into the crook of Merlin's neck; Merlin automatically tilts his head back to give Arthur room to nuzzle. Merlin’s hands, still bound, twitch with the muscle memory of running over Arthur's shoulders, down his back, and he wishes he could touch, so so badly.

Arthur continues, lips brushing lightly against Merlin's neck as he explains. "I love putting that plug in you. Getting you slick, easing you open. You make these little sounds, even when you're trying so hard to be good. You do so well, you just _did_ so well, but you can't even help it. You can feel it there now, can't you? You love it."

"Yes." Merlin finds himself agreeing before he even realises it's coming out of his mouth. It's true. "I do."

"I know," Arthur says confidently. He starts to pull away a little, and Merlin turns his head, hoping to find Arthur's lips against his. He swallows hard when he doesn't, and his eyes follow the top of Arthur's head as it moves down.

When Arthur bites at one of Merlin's nipples, no precursor or warning, Merlin groans deeply, back arching off the bed. Arthur licks and sucks gently, easing the pain, but then tilts his head up to nip at Merlin's jaw.

"So good for me," Arthur repeats again. His hand moves up from Merlin's chest to run on the underside of his left arm, light touches. Merlin can't help but pull against the binds, arms trying to move down. "Still now," Arthur says firmly, though his own hand doesn't stop. Merlin's arms go tense as he tries to make them behave. "That’s it, just like that."

Arthur sits up again, reaching to push down on one of Merlin's knees, though he says, "Legs down." Merlin lets his legs drop, finding a release of tension from holding them up, feeling as though that's just one less thing he has to pay attention to, focus he can put somewhere else. Arthur pulls the pillow out from under Merlin's hips, and even though it's just a small movement, the change of angle shifts the plug in him and his breath catches. He moves his hips a little, feeling it in him, and his eyes roll back.

Arthur straddles over his legs but then becomes incredibly still and silent himself. When Merlin feels composed enough, he opens his eyes; he immediately looks at Arthur's cock. He's hard again, always gets that way when he has Merlin bound and pinned under him like this. When Merlin glances up, Arthur's smiling down at him, though there's something hard edging it.

Merlin's heart skips a beat.

"I'm coming first," Arthur says.

Merlin's mouth opens, and on the tip of his tongue hangs the protest _Again?_ And had it been a few months ago, it would've spilled out. But Merlin shuts his mouth and catches it inside before it gets to Arthur.

But Arthur knows. His eyebrow is raised, and there's a quirk to one side of his mouth. "Yes, Merlin? Something to say?"

Merlin shakes his head resolutely. No. No, there is nothing to say. His bites his lips and meets Arthur's gaze evenly.

Surprisingly, Arthur groans. Merlin glances down and sees he has his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. When he looks back up, Arthur's almost looks ... fond, really.

His voice is low, seductive. "You've come so far, Merlin, so far. You do so well for me now. It wasn't always -- god, you have no idea."

Suddenly, he's hunched down and pressing his lips hard, rough against Merlin's. Merlin's groan shakes out of him. He loves Arthur’s kisses, but they’re so hit and miss, he never knows when they’re coming, and he suspects that’s always Arthur’s game. Merlin opens his mouth, lets Arthur in the way he likes, tongue demanding and fucking its way in. Then he easily coaxes Merlin's out and sucks on it greedily.

Merlin's feeling lightheaded, and his cock is fucking _pulsing_ with the strong need to come. He's making little noises against Arthur's lips, can't even stop them against the sweet assault of kisses.

Arthur pulls away just enough to drop his head and look down the length of their bodies. Merlin feels a spasm rock right through him when he finally feels Arthur's hand around his cock -- around _their_ cocks, lined up next to each other. He can feel the heat, the pulsing, of Arthur's cock pressing up against his, Arthur's fingers trying to grip both as he jacks them off.

"Oh god," Merlin hisses. "Shit, god--" He bites down on the inside of his mouth, trying to keep quiet.

Arthur's head snaps up. "Merlin." His voice is so rough, starting to slide into this side of wrecked, to join Merlin since he so clearly is. "Tell me what you want to say." His hand stops moving up and down, but he squeezes their cocks together.

" _Please_." It's shaky and desperate and … and fuck, yes, it's begging. Merlin begs. He wants, he wants so much. He _needs_ it like he needs air. "Please, god, let me come. Make me come, fuck, your hands." His dick throbs against the cockring. "I want -- you -- _Arthur_."

Arthur groans but he lets go of their dicks -- of Merlin's dick, and sits up. Merlin whimpers, a deep whine coming from the back of his throat as he watches Arthur continue to jerk himself off.

"Tell me again," Arthur says. His cheeks and chest are flushed red, and his skin is starting to shine with a sheen of sweat. His hand moves quickly over his cock and his breath comes out in shaky exhales.

"I want you. Just you, always you. Always, so much. _Please_. I've been good, I'll be good--"

"You _are_ ," Arthur groans, and with one more pull, his body is shaking and his come is splattering over Merlin's stomach, his chest. Merlin can only lie there and watch, head straining forward as if he could catch some in his mouth, hands wrapped tight around the cuff chains, just trying to find some sort of purchase before he shakes apart.

Arthur sits still for a moment, just breathing and calming himself. Finally, Merlin whines under his breath. He bucks his hips up, trying to get some contact; he's close, but not close enough, and it's so frustrating and wonderful and, "Arthur. Arthur," he repeats breathlessly. "Please."

It's that word that has Arthur jumping to attention. He doesn't look playful, like he's going to tease, but he looks incredibly pleased and content. Merlin knows this bodes well for him, and he sighs shakily, full of anticipation, as Arthur moves down his legs a little.

Arthur reaches down and Merlin's trembling when he thinks his cock is finally going to be touched; it's not, though. Arthur's hand reaches down and presses against the base of the plug. Merlin gasps loudly, "Oh, fuck, oh fuck," and his head thrashes side to side until he finally presses his face into the underside of his arm. He's ready to bite his own skin to keep from feeling like he's falling apart.

Arthur pulls the plug out, Merlin whining at the loss of it in him, feeling open and empty. But then Arthur’s pushing three fingers in, the lube and stretch from the plug making it an easy slide in. Merlin’s hips buck, trying to fuck himself down onto them, get more, always more, fill him right up. Arthur reaches with his other hand, unsnaps the cockring, and Merlin can feel his moan vibrate through his entire body. It only takes a couple strokes of Arthur's hand before Merlin is shaking and his own come is splattering a pattern with Arthur's over his body.

 

**

They haven't played nearly as hard as some previous times, and Merlin didn't slip into that glassy-eyed subspace as soon as he has before. But, still, with the desperate need and want that took over his entire body, and the way his orgasm hit him so hard he thought he was going to shake apart, it's like he's shot straight to the sky and he’s drifting amongst the clouds. He doesn't even feel like he's in his own body, just the sound of distant white-noise and the feeling like he's floating on air.

His eyes are closed and his chest rises and falls as his breath begins to even out, and he's only dimly aware of Arthur beside him, untying his arms. A stretch and dull pain, just from having his arms up and the tension they held, draw him in a bit more.

Arthur's murmuring to him, just little words and phrases of praise. It's the tone more than what he's saying that Merlin feels sink into him, warm and comforting and supportive. Merlin doesn't answer, not really, but hums a little and he can feel himself smile as Arthur's strong fingers start to massage the sore muscles of his arms. It’s so careful, and feels so good and relaxing.

Finally, Merlin feels more himself, even though there's a pleasant low thrum rippling through his entire body. He blinks his eyes open and looks up, finding Arthur smiling down at him.

"There he is," Arthur says quietly. "Feeling all right?"

Merlin hums and nods. "God, yes. Feel good. You?"

"Yeah," Arthur says, sounding incredibly content. "I'm fine. Better than. You're not too sore?"

Merlin knows Arthur is doing a small debriefing, making sure Merlin's okay. He appreciates that, so he takes a moment, sort of rolls his shoulders back against the mattress, shifts his arms along his side. Merlin smiles. "Nothing out of the ordinary, promise."

"Good," Arthur says. "I'll be right back?" He phrases it as a question; sometimes, if Merlin feels too far gone, or finds it too hard to come back to himself, he doesn't like to be left alone. Not until he's ready. But he nods at Arthur and Arthur just pats his arm and hops out of bed.

He's back quick as lightning, though. His stomach looks wet where he's wiped down, and he has a clean pair of boxers on. He has a wet cloth in one hand, and Merlin's boxers in another. Arthur holds out the cloth, eyebrows raised. Merlin nods and takes it, lazily swipes it over his stomach and down between his legs. God, that feels like a lot of work right now, so he leaves it on his belly and asks, "Got it all?"

Arthur snorts, grabs it and does another quick wipe and tosses it aside, and then slides Merlin's boxers up. Merlin barely helps, but lifts his hips up just enough so they get all the way up.

"Lazy sod," Arthur says, fondly. He lies back down on the bed next to Merlin.

Merlin's -- well, he’s weird about this part, he knows. Sometimes he wants to be held and cuddled and brought down out of his floating place, and Arthur is always right there to do it for him. Sometimes, like now, he just wants to lie there on his back and rest, and just know that Arthur is right beside him doing the same, arm pressed against arm, leg against leg, feet brushing a little.

Arthur's got to the point that he knows, either instinctively or maybe just being able to read Merlin's tells by now, what Merlin needs. It always makes Merlin feel so safe, so comfortable, in a way that he never has with another dom. It makes Merlin's heart ache and want to burst in a way it never has with anyone else before, in any sort of capacity, and he's not entirely sure what to do with that. So he tries to push it out of his mind for a more appropriate time, if there is one.

Except, well. It seems Arthur has other plans about that.

"Merlin?"

"Hmm?"

"Gwaine and Percy -- the blokes from earlier --"

"Your coworkers?" Merlin says, turning to look at Arthur. "Shit, I truly am sorry about that. I didn’t mean to interrupt--"

"It’s quite all right," Arthur says, and actually sounds like he means it. "I hadn’t really wanted to cancel. We haven’t, you know, for a couple weeks and I wanted to. I wanted to see you."

"Me too," Merlin says quietly.

"Good," Arthur says warmly. "And, they’re not just coworkers. They’re also a couple of my best mates. And." Arthur pauses a moment, and Merlin looks at him, sees a weirdly nervous flicker across his face. Arthur coughs and continues. "Well. They asked if we'd join them and some others down at the pub tomorrow night--"

"What?" Merlin asks, first bit of panic this entire evening. "They know? And, I mean, that’s rather public, at a pub--" His arm raises to flail, but Arthur grabs his hand, linking their fingers. It grounds Merlin immediately, and he doesn't feel so thrown-off.

"What? No!" Arthur says. He looks over at Merlin, barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Merlin thinks. Arthur continues, "Not -- this -- god, no, don't be daft!"

Arthur seems as shocked at Merlin’s suggestion as Merlin was making it, so Merlin knows that’s not what he intended to mean. His anxiety fades away immediately, and he asks with nothing but curiosity, "Then what?" Either his mates think that Merlin and Arthur are just mates too -- which Gwaine’s glances definitely didn’t suggest, or else they think … Merlin’s hand squeezes Arthur's tighter, in a nervous sort of way, but a good kind of nervous. He's trying to not read too much into it, but. Well. One could hope, he supposes.

Arthur says, "Well. Like, perhaps. A date sort of way."

Merlin blinks. His hand squeezing was right. "You -- want to. Me? Be your date."

"Merlin, look at me?" Arthur asks. It's a question, a request, not a demand but Merlin would never think of denying Arthur it anyway. He looks at Arthur, and he's fairly certain his heart is about to beat right out of his chest. Arthur looks back at him very firmly, confident and like he just really _needs_ to say this. "I -- yes. I think we should date. Exclusively."

Merlin takes in a breath, can't help the nervous broken laugh that escapes. "You mean. Like, boyfriends?" It hasn't come up before. This isn’t supposed to be like that. Merlin, though, isn't surprised at how much sense it makes, that he could admit maybe he’s considered it; especially recently, when just the mere thought of Arthur has made him feel lightheaded, yet happy. He doesn’t want to ruin anything, but it seems he hasn’t needed to worry about it.

"Yes," Arthur says. "Exactly that."

"I -- yes," Merlin says. As if he would say different. "Yeah. We should do that."

Arthur nods, and is serious. "We should not --- this," he says, waving a hand around in a broad motion that encompasses the entire bedroom.

Merlin looks at him, horrified. "No _sex_?"

"What? Yes, of course sex. For Christ's sake, Merlin, we've been sleeping together for months," Arthur says. "But I meant – doing scenes. Until, well. We figure out -- other stuff. And then, you know." His shoulder knocks against Merlin's with a shrug. "Reassess and renegotiate."

Merlin thinks about it for a moment. He knows Arthur is just trying to look out for them, for him, like he’s supposed to with that power over play, and that’s more touching and satisfying than he could’ve ever imagined. "All right," Merlin says slowly. "That's -- that sounds reasonable." He looks at Arthur hopefully. "But, snogging. We can snog, right?"

"Yes," Arthur says immediately. "Absolutely."

Merlin beams at Arthur. They can do this. They can figure it out. It's going to a whole other level. They're good at that, making it work, clearly, with the way they both seem to want it, to need it. And not just as a physical thing either; it’d be stupid for either of them to deny that any longer. They can make this work.

"All right, then," Merlin says. Then he rolls over onto Arthur and kisses him, because he can.

~end


End file.
